


Hazardous

by PhantomWarrior99



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, dark!Gabriel, heavy dark vibes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-21 19:29:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22235536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhantomWarrior99/pseuds/PhantomWarrior99
Summary: Eternity with an archangel isn’t always what you imagine
Relationships: Gabriel x reader
Kudos: 32





	Hazardous

"Gabriel, you're _hurting_ me." Your fingers curl into a fist, eyes darting between his vice grip on your wrist and heated whiskey that bears into your soul. Your back is pressed against the wall, his frame kneeling over you in a suffocating cage that sets off every nerve in your body.

This isn't him.

"Gabriel, let _go_." His grip is tightening and the firmness in your voice falters, giving way to the panic building in your chest. You feel around blindly behind you, fingertips brushing over the cool edge of metal as you locate the angel blade secured in the sheath along your back. Your hand curls around the hilt, "Please."

"Don't like it rough, sweetcheeks?" There's a twinge of condescension in his eyes, a flare of something so warped you're not sure what it is you see in haunted honey.

He tears you from the silent confusion with a crushing kiss, an icy chill that seeps into the once vibrant traces of your soul. It's battered. Beaten. You've been in the archangels "care" for too long - long enough to realize that each touch, each kiss, each caress eats away at your delicate human soul and edges you closer and closer to the dark side. Maybe he's lonely. Maybe it's some twisted game. But you can feel it ebbing - the empathy, the affection, the last trace that makes you feel _human._

Maybe that's why he gave you an angel blade. Maybe he wants you to kill him, put him out of his misery before he does something you'll both regret. Maybe it's his way of showing you that he's already won, one last dramatic flex of marred celestial power to break the spirit he'd once admired.

But you won't let him.

He's corrupting your soul with dark grace but you won't give up. He can take your soul, he can take your life, but you can't surrender your spirit. You don't know if saving Gabriel is even remotely possible anymore and after everything - you don't think you want to try. But you're not lost yet.

Granted, the Winchesters don't know where you are and Castiel is too weak to find you after his last encounter with the corrupted archangel to track you.

You're on your own.

You know that. Gabriel knows that. He's exploited a deep-seated fear in every hunter: being left for dead to whatever force they were trying to kill. Of course, the only thing worse than death is becoming one of them - and he knows it. A mixture of the two has forced you into a state of utter dread. You're not going to die. You're going to be like _him_ and there's nothing you can do about it. You're going to be like him and that's a fate worse than death itself.

Unless you can stop him.

So, when he drags you into another kiss and glacial wisps seep into your skin, you jerk the angel blade free from its sheath, burying it into the former archangel's shoulder and twist. He jolts back, landing on his ass and clutches at his shoulder in utter confusion.

"The hell was that?"

"I told you to let go," you manage to make it up to your feet, watching as crimson seeps and stains his shirt and the scowl that etches deeper and deeper into his features. All you can hear is the pounding of your own heart, the dizzying hum of adrenaline that spikes when hazel levels on your weakened frame.

"You're getting ballsy, sweetheart. If it weren't so, bloody...I'd say it's kind of hot." There's a dark lilt in his voice, a twinge of malice mixed with amusement and you're not sure which is worse: his eyes or his voice. So when he jerks the blade from his shoulder with a hiss, you stumble back a few startled steps, tripping over a chair you'd forgotten was there and land on your back.

"Oh, you really didn't think this through, did you, _sugar_?" It drips like venom from his lips, heated tension that settles on your skin in an icy glaze.

"Stay away from me," you slide back until your back meets drywall and you scramble up to your feet. You won't face him as a cowering child, if this is the end, you'll face him as a hunter.

"You know this blade won't kill me. You need an archangel's blade for that." He twirls the bloodied weapon in his hand, crimson slipping down the blade and over his hand, "But you knew that. Is it really _so bad_ to spend eternity with me?"

"You're not Gabriel. You're a monster. And you need to stay the hell away from me--"

"Or _what_? You'll stab me?" He gestures with the blade, "No, I don't think so. You can't do anything. I win. You lose. Now it's time for all good little hunters to give up and let me finish this."

"Go to hell, you warped fuck." Your gaze darts to the window, a raging storm igniting the pane with a brilliant flash of light and it's enough to draw his attention for a split second.

You grab the chair, shattering it across his shoulders with as much force as you can muster. His knees hit the floor and he turns in time to catch your fist inches from his face. You watch as the amusement dissipates, giving way to ironclad fury as he twists and you drop to your knees with a scream.

Every nerve is on fire. Every tendon bends and bends and screams. Every bone cracking in protest as seething crimson overtakes whiskey.

"You couldn't make this easy, could you? You had to make me _hurt_ you." There's a surge of ice along your skin and fear tears down your spine in a violent tremble.

"Gabe-- _please_ ," you whisper, managing to grasp ahold of the collar of his jacket with your free hand, y/e/c locking with flaring crimson as tears cascade down your jaw.

There's no trace of warmth. No twinge of mercy or affection. No sign of your archangel.

And you're out of options.

Outside, the storm pounds against the windows and doors in a furious attempt to enter. Outside, the house trembles beneath the force of the wind and the thunder that cuts straight to your bones. You don't remember hearing it start but you can't think about that now. You fight. You strain. You beg and plead. The storm surges as his grace does, shattering the windows and whipping through the room. Rain pours, silencing your cries in a cacophony of thunder. His eyes never leave your features as his grip tightens and the defiance drains with the last ounce of humanity.

He watches as you crumple forward into his arms, unconsciousness overtaking your exhausted frame. As crimson ebbs, his fingers smooth over your soaked hair, tucking it back behind your ear gingerly. His warm breath fans across your skin, soft and tender as he heals the marred remnants of your hand and wrist before gathering you close. Outside, the storm fades to a soft drizzle, a quiet mist that settles over the overturned furniture.

"I've got you, sugar. It's all right," he whispers, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, "I've finally got you, now and forever."

\----------------

**Author's Note:**

> Hey folks!  
> I hope you enjoyed this little jaunt down angst road! Please leave a kudo/comment and let me know your thoughts!  
> Thanks,  
> ~Phantom


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